Error
by Dream Keeper
Summary: A vampire needs a good meal, right? So what happens when she decides to sink her teeth into an unsuspecting person just walking down the street?


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Dream Keeper: Okay, I state now, I DIDN'T WRITE THIS!!!!!!!! It was done absolutely and solely by my friend lady_mist_maiden and she is to be given the sole credit. She just doesn't have an account here so I'm posting it for her. Anyway, here's the disclaimer. She does not own the Matrix, or the plot. If she did, she would be an absolutely filthy rich person and would not be associating with me. Sadly the Matrix and all its characters belong to some movie producer person. Also, the characters used here are hers, I guess. Yeah, I've said my/ her piece. Don't sure because we're BOTH poor broke folk. Enjoy! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Ha ha. The tone is dry and emotionless. All it is, is a short clip on the ending of a vampire. There seem to be no characters. Characters are usually the people you get to know, but I am very brief on them. Vague, as her (you can't tell the vamp is a girl until I tell ya :) existence is vague. It's in the place of the Matrix, about a vampire who is questioning her existence in the world. Bland indeed. No action. Just a way to understand what she is. I am not supposed to exist. A programmer's error, that's all I am. This thirst of blood that I have is not what they call natural. Under normal circumstances I would have been destroyed instantly upon creation, but instead I was merely abandoned and forgotten about in the shadow of greater events. Each false beat of my heart is another beat I am reminded of that I am only in an unreal reality. I haven't found my way out of the Matrix. Trapped here in error, I only watch from afar. Safely in the shadows, waiting for my prey.  
  
The cold seemed to seep into the very cobblestones of the ground themselves. The crumbling stone cold buildings are a sad sight even to my sense of luxury, or lack thereof. Dark, desolate, and seemingly emptiness surrounded the old neighborhood. Here in the Matrix, one would call it a population made of poverty, if a population would exist here anyways. I call it home. A lone paper skittered and danced across the stone ground in hopes of joining the freezing wind to freedom. If there is such a thing. My sharp teeth bit down against the bone-chilling wind, and I could feel my blood rushing throughout my body. The scent of blood is in my nostrils. Dinner is coming. Even as I wait expectantly for its arrival, I wonder, do I even need to eat? It is only a program, after all. My body is programmed, however, for the need to eat. And eat I shall. Dinner comes into view, and the old man is withered and hunched over. Indications of a hard life no doubt. It is said we vampires can give eternal life to the victim of our ravenous appetite. In truth, it is much worse. A vampire's bite wakes the mortal from the Matrix. Generally they die abruptly from the shock that follows shortly after. I pity this man who is unknowingly walking towards me. In a way, it'll be like he's dying twice. I know what the Matrix is though, unlike this mortal. I wish to be bitten myself because of my knowledge of this, but vampires are errors to be deleted immediately. I often wonder if I am the only vampire here in the Matrix. Then again, if I am only an error, does this mean I don't exist in the real world? A scary thought indeed.  
  
Smiling a greeting, I stepped out of the shadows with outstretched arms as a show of meaning no harm. What a liar I am. The old man jumped stiffly back in surprise at my sudden appearance. I must look like a ghost to him with my pale, ashen colored skin and pale blonde hair. His graying hair is matted and tangled with grease and his facial hair in dire need of a major cut. Waddling up to me, he grinned a toothless grin. How pitiful. He was begging me, of all the creations, for money and food. No matter, for soon it will end regardless of his pleads.   
  
The quiet rustlings of the dark blanketed neighborhood seemed to be screaming out in silent agony. Perhaps it too felt abandoned and unkempt. The frozen cobblestones seemed to guide my feet towards the old, smiling man. I caught him up in my arms in a gentle embrace. His musky, rotting odor nearly made me gag in disgust. His reek isn't real though, just as his blood I was about to drink isn't real. Lips against skin, I held my breath against his stench, then bit down. Warmth greeted my mouth instantly, engulfing me in a delicious ecstasy. This feeling of satisfaction isn't caused by something real though, is it. The old man looked down at me, not with the horror of a victim, but with the victory of a conqueror. Instantly I realized my mistake. He too is another program. One that deletes errors. Escape is impossible, the Matrix will always have me. I am not allowed to exist, for I am only a programmer's error. 


End file.
